


Healer

by EmpireOfTheClouds



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, And Tokyo Ghoul, And has a dumb crush on Simon, And he's insecure, Baz broke his leg, Baz likes metal, Baz plays soccer, Baz too, Falling In Love, Fluff, Getting Together, Harry Potter References, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I fucking love Simon you guys, I swear, It's Soft, M/M, Oh wait that's canon, Opening Up, Penny is the only reason Simon is passing his classes, Pink Floyd References, Please believe me, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rated T for swear words obv, References to Supernatural (TV), Simon's love for cherry scones is the best thing ever, SnowBaz, Someone save Simon, Strangers to Lovers, babs - Freeform, can we get an f in the chat, getting better, oh fuck, oh shit, this really isn't as angsty as it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 20:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20570261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpireOfTheClouds/pseuds/EmpireOfTheClouds
Summary: How Simon helped Baz tear down his walls and just... be.Alternatively, Simon is obsessed with Baz, and Baz loves him despite the fact that he's a whole idiot.





	Healer

**Author's Note:**

> HI GUYS! WHICH ONE OF YOU CAN WAIT FOR WAYWARD SON?  
ME NEITHER!  
I highkey stole Rainbow's writing style for this which I'm lowkey sorry about but e h  
I hope you enjoy this nonetheless!

SIMON

I'm not sure what exactly is the highlight of my experiences at school.  
I'm an average student, I guess. Failing Greek pathetically. And Latin, I think. I was never good with words. But I'm quite better at other subjects - like Chemistry, for instance.  
I don't have a lot of friends - since Agatha broke up with me, it has been just me and Penny, honestly. But I'm a friendly guy. If anyone approaches me, they're welcome.  
Thing is, that never happens - by High School, everyone has found a standard friend group to belong in. It's just how these things work.  
Except for maybe one guy.  
His name is Baz Grimm-Pitch. He's the only one I know who doesn't have any friends.  
I'd probably try to talk to him if it weren't so obvious he prefers distance.

* * *

Me and Penny sit at the very back of the class. She is quite the chatterbox sometimes - not that I'm complaining. So am I.  
This has been a very good reason for us to reach for the very last desks at the beginning of the year. We don't want the teachers looking at us talking now, do we?  
I remember that day clear as crystal. It was my first day of High School - and my first ever encounter with Baz Grimm-Pitch.  
I arrived at the classroom earlier than Penny, but not as early as I'd like - two out of three of the back desks were already occupied. That meant that I practically had to sprint to the precious vacancy, shoving people while at it to make my way to it. (It's an important mission, okay? I'm not usually that rude.) (The time I emptied an entire bucket of ice water on Penny's shitty ex doesn't count. That dick really had it coming.)  
When I finally arrived at the desk, I was relieved to find it empty. I reach for it-  
And so does he. I didn't know his name back then. All I knew was that he was fucking scary.  
He was taller than me and looked definitely stronger than I was, despite being quite skinny. His eyes were a piercing grey that made me unable to look into them for more than one second, maybe two on a good day. His black bangs fell in his face, marking a stark contrast to the pale skin.  
But that wasn't nearly what made me shit my pants at the very sight of him.  
He was wearing all-black, and his clothes covered every single inch of skin. I'm serious - the only parts you could see were his fingers (long and thin, elegant, with nails painted black and sharp-looking knuckles that I didn't doubt for a second whether they could break my jaw or not) and his neck (his Adam's apple was poking out very visibly - it was almost creepy). That was all.  
Everything else was covered by black skinny jeans, which hugged his thighs nicely, black Timberlands and an oversized - you guessed it - black sweater with a hood, which was pulled over his head, covering his hair and forehead, all the way to his eyebrows.  
Of course, all those details about the clothes he wore and the way his thighs looked in skinny jeans I noticed later - at that point, what caught my attention was another thing.  
It was the mask that covered half his face, leaving only the eyes and nose in sight.  
It looked exactly like the one Kaneki Ken wore in Tokyo Ghoul - only back then I didn't know who Kaneki Ken was, so it looked so unfamiliar and so goddamn creepy I completely lost my shit.  
I legitimately thought he was going to pull out a knife on me or something.  
But he didn't.  
Actually, he didn't do anything to scare me off - quite the opposite. No, completely the opposite. Without uttering a word, he just left the desk to me and sat on the one in front of mine, picking the seat right by the wall. If he wanted to, he could lean against the wall and take a nap and no one would notice. Perfect thinking. I decided to do that too, and I sat exactly behind him.  
I wanted to talk to him and make conversation, but that mask still creeped the living shit out of me and I didn't want to accidentally anger the guy. 

BAZ

Soon enough, a teacher enters the room. She is a black woman with dark curly hair that reaches her shoulders and fits her kind-looking face nicely. She also wears red glasses, positioned low on her nose. She is quite overweight and wears a very old-fashioned simple dress and equally old-fashioned boots with low heels. Typical philologist. Probably Latin, Greek or maybe English she'll be teaching.  
"Good morning, people, and welcome to Watford High. My name is Mrs. Page, and I'll be your Latin teacher this year."  
Bingo. Big yay for me. I allow myself to smile a little behind the mask.  
After greeting us and giving us a - thankfully short - lecture on how important education is, she begins calling out our names, reading from a catalogue which she has in hand.  
Before she calls out my name, she pauses a little and adjusts her glasses on her nose. I suspect it was the note right next to my name about why I wore that mask and hood and why it was important that teachers not disturb me by telling me to take them off, like they normally would.  
After she finishes reading, she calls out my name, tone quite uncertain.  
"Baz Grimm-Pitch".  
I raise my hand. "Here."

SIMON

His voice is deep and smooth as he speaks. It leaves me with an unexplainable sweet aftertaste. I'd bet he has amazing singing talent.  
I also have a name for the face now... or the half-face.  
Baz.  
I almost want to say it out loud, see how it feels in my lips, my voice, but I hold back, for it would've been super weird.

* * *

As I think back to that day, I realise that it has been six whole months and I know about Baz approximately nothing more than I knew in the beginning of the year - except that he's an excellent student, and that he plays soccer like a pro.  
I think that the only times I've ever seen him do anything with passion is during soccer matches.  
He's a middle-fielder in the school team, and he's fucking good at it. He runs faster than the Quidditch snitch and he can catch the ball from your feet before you even realise he's there. He even got to score a few times, despite his position.  
And I admit that I cheer for him louder than I cheer for any of the other players.  
I don't know what exactly is that draws me to him. Perhaps it's the mysterious aura. I mean, who the hell plays soccer wearing a mask that covers half their face?  
Baz Grimm-Pitch, apparently.  
I just really want to learn more about him - get to know the guy.  
I wish I wasn't such a coward about it.  
I look at him now, celebrating a win with the rest of the team, and despite everything, he looks so goddamn human.  
Even with that fucking mask on, which doesn't allow me to see his expression.  
I momentarily wonder how his smiles look like. If he ever smiles.

* * *

BAZ

Simon Snow.  
Where do I even begin about Simon Snow?  
Simon Snow is flawless- okay I took that joke too far. Forgive me.  
I don't know a lot about him. I know that he desperately needs to learn Greek before the end of the year exams. I know that he eats like a pig during the lunch break when he hangs out with Penelope Bunce, and that she's the only reason he's still passing his classes.  
I also know that he's extremely motherfucking attractive and that he makes me weak in the knees.  
I hate that. I absolutely hate it.  
Throughout my life, I've known one thing for sure, and that's that I should never trust anyone. Cause everyone is gonna leave me eventually.  
And yet having him right behind me in class, blabbering with Bunce about sour cherry scones and movies and other unbelievably stupid shit - it gives me such comfort. It's like confirmation that the Earth is still rotating.  
I don't like feeling that way around him. I don't like it, cause what if he takes advantage of it?  
The last bell rings, and I'm the first to get the hell out of there. No one spares me a second glance as I move down the halls - they're used to me by now, especially ever since I joined the soccer team. I even get a few friendly waves from my teammates.  
I would never dare to admit just how amazing it feels to belong somewhere. Somewhere where I'm treated as an equal. Somewhere where people consider me an important part of the team.  
No. I would never admit it.

* * *

SIMON

As I walk down the street, heading home, my mind is elsewhere.  
What to do about my profound stupid elementary schoolgirl obsession with Baz Grimm-Pitch.  
It's fucking dumb - I don't even know what his face looks like. I don't know anything about him. What's his favourite color? ("Black, you fucking moron. What else would it be?") What's his favourite anime? ("Does he need to tattoo it on his forehead- no, wait, that would be much less conspicuous than the Kaneki Ken mask that covers half his face.") What kind of music does he listen to? ("Yeah, go ahead pretending you've never heard him mumble Paradise Lost songs during lunch, when he takes his tray to god-knows-where.") ("Go ahead pretending that he's not the very reason you got into Tokyo Ghoul and Paradise Lost in the first place.")  
Could you really call it a crush if you don't know anything about the person? ("Yes you can.")

* * *

I can't be more than five minutes from home when I hear it - his voice.  
Calling my name. "Snow!"  
At first I thought I heard wrong, but it repeated - it was him, I was certain.  
And he sounded scared.  
I look at the direction of the sound, but see nothing. Just trees.  
I go for it. I run to the trees, barely avoiding low branches and holes in the ground. Adrenaline can be your friend - if I weren't in such a rush, I'd probably have broken a few limps already.  
"Over here!", I hear, and I turn around-  
And there he is. On the ground, his leg bent at an unnatural angle. I wince, but don't hesitate to come to him.

BAZ

Thank god he was passing by - he's one of the very few people I feel mildly comfortable with. Bless his soul for he came and didn't leave me in my misery.  
It was the dumbest accident - I just hit my ankle on some rock and fell. And now my leg hurt like someone just...  
Uh...  
Broke it.  
"Baz", he calls out, and I'm surprised he knows my name, but try not to let it show. He's soon right above me, kneeling by my head. I try to sit up, but my arms feel weak, too, and I almost hit my head on the damn rock as I fall back down. Snow saves my ass-  
By making a goddamn pillow out of his goddamn thighs.  
He's either an idiot or playing with my feelings.  
I conclude he's an idiot cause he has no idea about my feelings.  
"Thanks", I say instead.  
"Are you okay?", he asks.  
I look at him, an eyebrow raised. "Peachy."  
He chuckles and takes his phone out of his back pocket. "I'm calling an ambulance for you", he says, "jerk".  
"Bitch."  
He laughs. He gets my Supernatural references. I want to hit him. His laugh is beautiful. I want to dig up a hole and bury myself in it.  
Instead I'm lying on the ground, in the middle of the woods, with a broken leg and my head on Simon Snow's thighs.  
I'm not sure if this is better or worse.

SIMON

So...  
He watches Supernatural. Add that to the list of things I know about him.  
And he can raise one eyebrow.  
I can't raise one eyebrow. I feel defeated.  
But that matters little cause now his head is on my thighs.  
Which is very distracting. I really need to make that call to the ambulance and not screw up while at it.  
Thankfully, I manage. Big yay for me. Now we wait.

BAZ

"Um, thank you for... y'know. Not leaving me in my misery", I say. It's sincere. He'd better consider himself special.  
"Why would I ever do that?", he asks, smiling. His smile is so fucking pretty I want to actually cry.  
Instead I only shrug.  
He shakes his head and I half-expect him to say "You're unbelievable". He doesn't.  
"Can you sit up?", he asks softly.  
I try again, this time more confident, but my hands hurt a lot. I suspect they're wounded. I can't hold myself up and I fall again-  
Only for Snow to catch me in his arms.  
My heart skips a beat. Maybe even two. I'm not used to this intimacy but it damn well feels good and at this moment I don't want to let go of it even if it kills me.

SIMON

Having Baz in my arms feels so right it almost scares me.

BAZ

That son of a bitch must enjoy playing with me cause he pulls me closer.

SIMON

Why is he so close to me but at the same time so fucking far away?

BAZ

I can practically feel his heartbeat - to my surprise, it's fast. Really fast.

SIMON

My heart feels like it's gonna tear its way out of my chest.

BAZ

My heart feels like it's gonna break inside my ribcage.

SIMON

Why am I like this?

BAZ

What the actual fuck is wrong with me?

SIMON  
That's when the ambulance came.  
The doctors helped Baz on the bed and I gave them my phone number to receive updates on his condition.  
The doors closed. The ambulance left.  
I was alone. 

* * *

His leg had indeed broken.  
He would have to wear a cast for three weeks and he wouldn't be able to play soccer for at least one month and a half.  
The soccer team needed a new middle-fielder. No one was as good as Baz.

* * *

BAZ

Not playing soccer is a pain in the ass.  
Soccer is one of the few things that make me feel like I'm more than a walking misery. That make me feel actually alive.  
Another one of these few things is Simon Snow.  
After what happened, he has tried a lot to get me to sit with him at lunch. Thing is, I hate eating in front of people-

SIMON

Maybe he's anorexic.

BAZ

-so I always turn down the invitation.  
I'm trying to rebuild my walls. The ones Simon Snow tore down in a matter of minutes? Yeah, those.  
But seeing how persistent he is makes me think;  
Do I really want to build them back?

* * *

"Baz?", he calls as I'm about to make my way out of the class. I turn around at the sound of my name - or his voice. Or both.  
He walks closer to me. He's shorter than me, but right now I feel extremely small.  
"I was wondering if you'd want to walk home with me", he says.  
It's just a walk home, I tell myself.  
It's no big deal, I tell myself.  
"Sure", I tell Simon.

* * *

"Baz", he says, "do you know anything about what's going to happen to the soccer team now?"  
I shrug. "I don't know. I thought they'd have replaced me by now."  
"Replaced you? Are you kidding? You're one in a million, man. No one has skill close to yours."  
It takes everything I have in me not to stop walking and just stand there with my mouth wide open in surprise.  
Simon Snow just called me the new Messi.  
Fucking unbelievable.  
"Don't be dumb, Snow", I say instead, as casually as I can, "I'm not a national superstar or something, I'm just a kid who likes kicking a soccer ball around". I sneer. "Now with the goddamn cast I can't even do *that*."  
"Don't look down on yourself", he replies. "You're really good. I've watched all of your games."  
The thought that Simon Snow might as well be in the crowd of the school team's spectators had never occurred to me. I want to hit my head against a wall for completely ignoring the possibility.  
"You have?", I ask stupidly.

SIMON

("Of course I have. I wish you'd stop wearing sleeves when you play though - your arms look toned as fuck and I bet they'd look godly in a Tee.")

BAZ

"Yeah", he replies.  
I don't know what else to say, so I just say nothing and focus on not slipping with those damn crutches on the uneven ground.  
As if sensing my concern, he speaks up again. "Do you need any help? Walking, I mean."  
"I'm not a kid, Snow", I reply, but not harshly.  
He clicks his tongue and I can practically hear him rolling his eyes. What a drama queen. 

* * * 

Eventually, we reach an area where, no matter how much I try to prove to myself - and Simon, for that matter - otherwise, I really can't walk. I curse the crutches and my horrible luck under my breath, and I hear him chuckle.  
"What about now?", he asks.  
I swallow my pride and nod my head. The smile he gives me is so rewarding that I forget my embarrassment.  
I quickly find myself smiling back, and I thank goodness for my mask.

SIMON

I swear I saw his eyes soften. Maybe it's just me.

BAZ

What he does next I never could've expected, not even in my wildest dreams.  
He picks me up. Bridal style. As if I weigh nothing.  
"Whoah", I exclaim, and I find myself tightly clenching on the crutches. I quickly decide it doesn't feel safe enough and grab on his shoulder instead.

SIMON

His touch burns me up and I want to kiss him.  
There. I said it. Discretion can softly kiss my ass.  
If I could see his lips, maybe I would've kissed him for real.

BAZ

I hate myself for cherishing this moment so much.  
Simon Snow is a whole ass fucking moron and yet I feel so safe in his arms that I'm not scared of anyone.  
I lean my head against his other shoulder; I feel exhaustion slowly creep its way to me - I haven't had proper sleep in years, and I actually almost fall asleep in his embrace.  
He smells like cherries and vanilla and everything I've ever hoped for.  
And right then and there, half-asleep and drowning in my overwhelming feelings, I do the exact thing I promised to myself I'd never do.  
I tore down the wall.  
I pulled down my mask and kissed his neck. He has a mole there. I love this mole. I love everything about him. I love him. 

SIMON

It burns.  
It sets my entire body on fire.  
I can feel my hands shake. My grip on him getting a little tighter. My heart beating so fast I think it's going to burn itself.  
And then he does it again. This time more confident. More straightforward. (More needy.)  
We reach his house. (I asked him his address before we went off. I'm not a creep, I swear.)  
"We're here", I announce. My voice is failing me. I can hear it, shaky and small and uncertain. I don't try to hide it - fuck yeah he affects me. I do want him to know that. To embrace it.  
"Shut the fuck up and kiss me, Snow", he whispers, and who the hell am I to refuse?  
I look at his face for the first time ever. He's handsome. Extremely handsome.  
His lips are quite plump and he tastes like low-quality school lunch.  
I've never tasted anything better.

BAZ

We kiss slowly and sloppy and messy, but it's perfect.  
We match.  
And when he sets me down and helps me walk to my front door, I decide to steal another kiss from him, and it's dizzying and breathtaking and I've never been more in love before. 

* * *

SIMON

It's been a year and a half since we first sealed it with a kiss and started dating.  
Today we finish our second year of High School. I managed to convince Mom to allow me and Baz to go on vacation somewhere, the two of us. We still haven't decided exactly where. My money's on Ibiza.  
The school team has won the school tournament for the second time in a row. Baz is the captain now. He's the happiest I've ever seen him, and I'm the happiest knowing that he's happy.  
He was the one who had the honor of holding up the cup first. Whether I cried or not... Well, let's say it's none of your business.  
It took him quite some time, but he managed to get rid of the mask. The first day he went to school without it, about a year ago, the entire class went nuts. A girl even asked him out, but he said "sorry sis, I play for the other team"; and he kissed me. And winked at me. The little shit.  
Penny screamed and hugged me like a proud mother. The entire class went nuts once again. If I heard homophobic comments, I didn't keep them in my memory or let them hold me back. I think I can safely say that Baz didn't either.  
He also wears more revealing clothing now. Not anything crazy - but he shows his arms now. (They are just as toned as I had imagined.) Sometimes even his legs. And the hood is gone. (His hair is so soft and pretty and it always smells like soap.) (He says that it's a nice change from my own hair, which smells like someone threw dirt on it and put it in the oven. But I've seen him smell my hair like he's a cocaine addict, so I can't say he means it.)  
But I've changed too.  
I've grown to express myself more. I'm becoming better with words. It helps that Baz helps me with my homework. (That is, when I don't get too distracted by his immense godlike beauty and snog him mid-sentence.) I've become a better student and, I dare say, a better person.  
Today we're heading to a Paradise Lost concert. (I never told him that he was the one who got me into them. Google can be your friend. All I had to do was type "all I want is a true belief".) He bought us both T-Shirts with the band's logo and insisted that I wear makeup. I didn't want to. He made me do it anyway. "Just a little eyeliner", he said. I can't say it's a lot, but I still feel like Marilyn Manson.  
Baz looks amazing in makeup. Black lipstick suits him a lot. (Unsurprisingly, it actually is his favourite color.) He said that it's waterproof, so that I can kiss him, but I'm convinced that the real reason is that he's planning to drink his marbles out. I'm gonna make sure he doesn't. I don't want to have to deal with his hangover, again.  
Overall, it's gonna be quite a night. I can't wait.

* * *

BAZ

About a year ago was the first time I went to school mask-less.  
I arrived early. None of my classmates were there yet. The classroom was unlocked, the catalogue on the teachers' desk and no one stood in the way between me and it.  
I reached it and quickly found my name next to a hot pink sticker note.  
"Baz Grimm-Pitch has suffered from PTSD ever since his mother's death. The disorder has caused him extreme insecurity, which is the reason why he wears a mask and a hood. Please do not ask of him to remove them, for it causes him panic attacks and other serious symptoms." And my therapist's signature.  
I had told her I was ready. She agreed too. And I felt it right then.  
I was ready.  
I carefully removed the sticker note and threw it in the trash can.  
My heart was beating loudly in my chest. But I was ready.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya demons it's me ya boy   
I feel like the ending is kinda rushed and I'm really insecure about this fic but oh well what can I say  
I hope it's tolerable oof  
Please leave comments I want feedback I'm an insecure piece of shit


End file.
